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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525229">The neighbor.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elit3/pseuds/Elit3'>Elit3</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, I Don't Even Know, Love Confessions, Original Character(s), Original Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 05:55:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elit3/pseuds/Elit3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was time for the young woman to return to Paris after spending three weeks in NY, but before to leave she had to say goodbye to the neighbor. (It may sound sexual, but it's not, I promise.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The neighbor.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! So I don't know if anyone will read this story or not. I didn't gave more information about the character descriptions for letting your imagination work. The base is: a woman and a man. And two male friends (yes, they are gay, but if you have a problem with that, they can be two friends sharing an apartment in NY) and a female friend. BUT, it may very well be two men or two women and they have the nationality (skin color) of your choice.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today is the big day. </p><p>After spending three weeks with his friends in the metropolis of the Big Apple, it was time to return, to go back to the capital of Love. </p><p>The young woman got up early, had breakfast with her friends, take a shower, and dressed up. She only put on black jeans and a blue hoodie. The sweater was a blue that the washing machine had tarnished, it was too big and the sleeves were frayed. Yet it was her favorite sweater, the one with which she had passed her exams, the one with which she had spent most of the last eight months, the one with which she could conquer the world. </p><p>His first friend had to go to work but he took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. Before leaving, he asked her if she really wanted to leave, saying she could stay as long as she wanted. "Yes," she replied, without batting an eyelid, "I have to." He left with a sad smile on his face, he would have wanted to convince her to stay but he knew that she could be stubborn whenever she wanted. The second friend took her suitcase and backpack, although she had insisted on carrying them herself. Secretly, she was glad that her friend took her suitcase, at least it would take him some time to go down the seven floors without the elevator that was being repaired that day. She stood on the pallier, telling him that she would soon join him. </p><p>Once her friend had started going down the stairs, the young woman took a long breath of air before knocking on the door of her friends' neighbor. <br/>She had met the man at the party her friends had made for his return. She didn't like parties, being too introverted to start dancing on the dance floor. But one of his friends used any pretext to party. At least this one was quite small. </p><p>She had a drink and after talking to her former roommate, walked away from the party and hid on the balcony. The woman looked at the starless sky of New York City and admired the tall buildings. "What a pity we had to grow up," she sighed, reflecting on the times she spent with her friends when the four of them were roommates. When they finished their studies, they all went in different directions. Marie went first to New York, Theo went to Paris, Charles stayed in the same city where they had studied, and the young woman left for the south of France. But Theo and Charles eventually moved to New York and she was left alone in France. "Although some things never changed," she laughed as she saw Theo dance like the idiot he was. </p><p>The Frenchwoman startled when she heard a voice break her thoughts and she almost let go of her glass. But fortunately, the brown liquid remained in the glass. She looked to the newcomer. And that's when she met him. The neighbor. Theo or Marie had to invite him as the extroverts they are.</p><p>The neighbor was not only handsome and tall, with a charming smile, soft hair, and mesmerizing eyes. He was also intelligent, funny, kind, sarcastic, and with a laugh that sounded like the most beautiful symphony, the young woman had ever heard. </p><p>Yes, she had fallen in love with him.</p><p>And she had never felt that kind of feeling before. </p><p>As fate dictates, she had to see the neighbor an indecent number of times. Every time she and Marie were in the café at the bottom of the building, because yes the three roommates lived in the same building, he would arrive. The neighbor always wore these perfect suits, he ordered his coffee with tired eyes that came back to life after he had a sip and a smile stretched his features that make shone his eyes every time he saw them. Marie waved to him every time. And each time, he took a chair from a nearby table and sat next to Mary. The young woman, meanwhile, was either hiding behind her pc or behind her book. She didn't want him to see that she was looking at him or that she was blushing like a tomato. It's a good thing Marie was there to divert his attention.</p><p>Except for that one afternoon, she was alone, waiting for her three friends in the small café with a book to keep her company. She was so caught up in her reading that she had not seen him enter the coffeeshop or order his coffee. In fact, the young woman did not even look up when she heard the chair in front of her being pulled off. Assuming, wrongly, that someone had taken the chair. She only looked up after feeling an insistent look at her book, and having no filter between her mouth and her brain, she said: "It is written in French precisely to avoid the curious little ones of ... Oh! It's you." He smiled at her with that damn smile that made the butterflies shudder in his belly and being the moron he is, he answered her only by: "It's me". </p><p>The conversation went easily between the two as they were both fans of fantasy novels and he even had suggested that they should go to the bookstore at the corner of the street. </p><p>She agreed. </p><p>They spent hours there. Speaking of their favorite books and those they didn't like. They went to eat in an Italian restaurant. And when it was time to go home, neither she nor he wanted to separate, so they spent the rest of the night on the streets of New York. Since her arrival, the young woman had never seen the streets of the city that never sleeps and was surprised to see how true this sentence was. And it was all the more magical with him sharing this experience with her. </p><p>She did not return to Theo and Charles' apartment until 3 A.M. Her two friends had been away to bed for a long time, but at the door of the guest room, there was a note with Charles's small and clean handwriting: "Mobile phone: a little gem of technology allowing his holder to SEND text or to CALL his worried friends who thought you had been kidnapped by little green men, was eaten by alligators, ends up in the hospital or police station (again). PS: Glad you're okay. C." She laughed before quickly writing another note - she did not plan to get up before 11 am tomorrow morning - saying that she had spent the night with the neighbor and she put the note on the coffee maker. </p><p>This was not the last time the French spent time alone with the neighbor during her stay. </p><p>So she decided to tell him it was time for her to leave.</p><p>She had seen him in fitted suits, in sweaters, in those dubious patterns shirts, she had even seen him wearing a jogging when he took out his dog. Yet nothing prepared her to see him wearing anything but a jog, which fell low on his hips. She remained to stare at his bare torso a little too long before deciding to look him in the eye. Eyes that were still full of sleep. And God he was adorable when he had just come out of bed with his hair going all over the place. She swallowed before deciding to talk. </p><p>"I-I um... it's today that I have to leave. So I wanted to say goodbye."  </p><p>He looked at her without answering for a while. Her sleepy brain didn't immediately understand what she meant by that. But in the end, the realization seemed to hit him. </p><p> "Oh!" Was it disappointment in his voice? "It's today! Then... Goodbye. I hope you make a good trip" </p><p>"Thank you" She began to turn away. And he was about to close the door of his apartment but caught by an impulse, the young woman prevented him from doing so. "That's not what I came to tell you." </p><p>He looked at her shocked but he opened his door. "So what do you wanna say?"</p><p>"I don't know how to say it." She thinks for a moment to put her thoughts in order. "You are friends of Charles, Theo, and Mary so I'm sure they must have told you about it. No, actually, I know they told you about it, I saw it in the way you look at me, you know. And they are unable to keep their concern to themselves anyway. Eight months ago, my ex and I split up. It was far from being in a mutual agreement or peaceful. We were yelling at each other, insulting each other, and we even broke two or three objects. I left and returned to my hometown after resigning. At first, I was devastated. I didn't want to talk to anyone, see anyone. But finally, I realized that it was for the best, it had been hell with Stephan the last six months before we broke up, I hated his mother and I didn't like my job anymore. But during the past six months, I have continued to ignore Charles, Theo, Marie, and the rest of my family. I didn't really have an excuse anymore but if I didn't talk to them then I wouldn't have to say "I'm fine" when they asked me how I was feeling. I didn't have to smile if I didn't want to. I thought I was better but it was another lie. I wasn't well and I guess that's why I really came to NY." Did she really just talk so much in such a short time? From the neighbor's look, yes she did. And she continued: "But with you, I didn't have to force my smile, I don't have to lie anymore because I have no reason to do so, and I don't have to hide in a small appart. With you, I feel like I'm reliving and ..." </p><p>And she was cut off by the neighbor's lips, which forced her to shut up. She will never forget how she felt at that time and she let herself go in the taking of man. Her hands touched the naked, warm skin of her crush, but she did not remove them. </p><p>They kissed over and over again. </p><p>Until he brought her in and closed the door but they continued to kiss before moving on to a little more sportish activity. </p><p>But that's not what happened, is it? </p><p>I did not stop the door from closing.</p><p> I didn't tell you what I was feeling for you. </p><p>Or gave you my heart on a silver platter.</p><p> Instead, I looked at the door you had just closed for a few seconds. </p><p>Waiting, hoping, and praying for you to reopen it. </p><p>But you didn't do it. </p><p>I was alone in front of your door. </p><p>So I left.       </p><p>I went down the stairs - between us: It's a good thing that Theo took the suitcase - to the ground floor, and with trembling hands, I slipped these pages into your mailbox. </p><p>No, I didn't write them in the middle of the lobby. I am sitting on the bed of Charles and Theo's guest room, in my pajamas, my hair is gathered in a bun and I am listening to one of Linkin Park's music. In the end. Isn't the good song to write something like this? </p><p>And no I'm not a soothsayer and I haven't consulted an oracle either. </p><p>And, yeah, I found the idea of writing a letter completely outdated.</p><p>Although I might have thought too much about what you will look like when you open the door tomorrow. </p><p>"So, how do you know what's going to happen?" That's what you're asking yourself, isn't it? </p><p>You have the answer in your hands. If I had the courage to tell you my feelings and your answer is positive then I will burn these pages, same thing if you pursue me. But since you are currently reading them, it is that you did not do it and that I did nothing to see it happen. </p><p>But that's what I'm doing, declaring my love through these words. </p><p>"Do you really want to leave?" asked Charles before leaving for work. </p><p>"Yes," I answered without hesitation, "I have to." </p><p>Here's what will happen after I slip this story into your mailbox: </p><p>I'll meet Theo in front of the building, take him in my arms, and pretend not to see his tears. I'll look at your window hoping to see you there but I won't see you there, will I? I'll get in the yellow cab and you won't stop me. At the airport, I will wait for my plane, looking right to left hoping to see you there. I've always found it cheesy in the movies, the man running into the airport to stop the woman he loves from leaving. But I will wait until the last moment for this event to happen. It did not happen. You didn't come running and telling me I was going to make the biggest mistake of my life. The air hostess will have to call me a second voice for me to recognize her presence and I should ask her to repeat. I will board the plane that will take me back to Paris. And while I'm sitting between an old woman who still wants to go to the toilet and a man who will only complain about the working of the flight attendants -with the child behind me who will give kicks in my seat - I'd be dead of worry about your reaction to this story. Finally, I will arrive in Paris and take the train that will take me home. </p><p>Now it's up to you. It's up to you to choose what you want to do:</p><p>	 -Ignore this letter and burn it if I imagined this whole situation. If you only see me as the weird friend of your neighbors and not as a love interest. </p><p>	-But if I didn't imagine the looks you gave me, the way you smiled at me... Then all you have to do is take me in your arms when I return to NY in two months for Mary's wedding. But if you don't want to wait two more months, I'd love to pick you up at the airport.</p><p> With all of my love. </p><p>-The neighbor's friend.</p>
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